Author Archives: janishaag

the hell to write, she said.You say, just write, but whatdoes that mean? Grab an image out of your headand put it on the page? OK.A dog. Now what? What do you mean, details?I dunno—just a dog. No,not a specific … Continue reading →

I almost stepped on it—though it might’ve been my sole that brought it inside—a leaf left in the shape of of a bird on the kitchen floor.I looked around for the potential bringer-inner, seeing only Poki,who is the tidiest of … Continue reading →

(for Rose Varesio) And though you were waiting,maybe praying, for her release, still, now, you want her back.Not as she was near the end, but as she was when she was.And now that she’s vanished into mystery, incommunicado,no way to … Continue reading →

Maybe it’s for exercise, sure,or because I try to get in the poolas often as possible on summer evenings because…well, it’s summer, and the pool,sunshine-heated perfectly on these too hot days, sparklesseductively as I walk by…you know you want to… … Continue reading →

(for Sue and Donna) Two of us were born to my mother,the other, next door best friend, to another mother,who is now gone, but who was part of the village that raised us all, we three aware of timenot so … Continue reading →

(for Deborah Meltvedt) She’s embarrassed to ask, but my friend whose birthdayis nine days before mine is coming in near midnighton a train from Fresno, and, late night writer that I am, how can I not offerto pick her up? … Continue reading →

adverb: (as the copying of a text) letter for letter ••• (for Gerry Colón) I learned to type literatim,hunting and pecking letter by letter,as most people do, in my case, on my parents’ smallmanual Smith Corona, standardblack, elite type, which … Continue reading →

When you walk among them,they seems like they’ll be herewaving and bobbing their happy headsforever, growing by the long dirt roadleading to the farm. Like an LP you can play again and again,the leggy zinnias and butterfly-wingedcosmos flutter on a … Continue reading →

(for Sue Butler and Antsy McClain, with love and thanks) The light that gets lostis blue at the edges,the kind that, if you couldsoar high enough, you might see huggingthe curvature of the Earthlike a soft baby blanket,wrapping this blue … Continue reading →

I practiced it multiple times a dayfrom March on, after Mr. Rolicheck,my eighth grade homeroom teacher,commanded that I sing a solo atgraduation. How did he know that I could sing?He knew that I loved to write,returned story after story withthe … Continue reading →